Deformed Angel
by Celestial Reign
Summary: Ryou is so tired of seeing those horrible growths on his hands. If only there was some way to get rid of them. He could be normal, then. Guro, Tendershipping.


**Time for some good old fashioned horror. YES, this is horror, and it is slightly gross and contains a bit of mindscrewing (thank you those who actually know what that means). Anyway, I wanted to write in the genre I created this account for and I haven't written something like this in awhile, so I figured now would be a good time. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh, or the original idea of this story. It is owned by an anonymous writer and you can find the original posted by Inunah (I don't know if they are the one who wrote it or not) on Creepy+Pasta (a website full of horror stories) and is titled 'Growths'. The idea intrigued me and I wanted to write about Ryou in the same situation the unnamed character was in in the original. **

**Warnings: Slight guro, Tendershipping (hinted a little), and potential mindscrewing. You've been warned. **

* * *

Deformed Angel

Ryou stared at his hands in disgust, scrunching up his face and balling both hands into fists. How...utterly awful they were, the growths. He was so sick and tired of waking up every single morning, only to be reminded that he was different, that he was cursed with these horrifying deformations attached to his skin. Taking his hands down, not being able to look at them anymore, he opted for digging around in his dresser for a pair of gloves, at least to ease his own mind and hide those horrible pieces of flesh. He was rewarded when a pair of black gloves appeared underneath a pile of socks. He smiled in triumph, not wasting a second before pulling them on and he instantly felt relieved...at least for the time being. He knew it wouldn't last, he'd get way too hot, and then he'd be forced to take the gloves off and...see those things again.

Trying to put the depressing thoughts out of his head for now, Ryou grabbed his backpack and headed downstairs where his darker half was currently scraping eggs around in a pan.

"Good morning, Bakura." Ryou greeted the spirit now in the flesh, not expecting an answer, and not surprised when he didn't get one. Bakura was always rather despondent. He wasn't exactly nice, nor mean, but somewhere in between. He had his moments, that's all Ryou could think to sum it up as.

The spatula scraped around the pan, creating an annoying screech noise that made Ryou grit his teeth, and Bakura turned to face him, dark circles visible underneath his eyes. Why did he even bother getting up early when he stayed up all night? It's not like he had anywhere to be, and Ryou pushed away the thoughts that he only got up to make him breakfast. Ha, Bakura was not considerate like that. It had to be something else. "Eggs?" The pan was pushed toward Ryou and he nodded, smiling a little at his taller other self. Maybe a little food would get his mind off-no. He couldn't think about them now. They were covered up by the gloves, he didn't have to look at them. He was fine, Ryou was fine. He would _not _think of them.

A plate full of scramble eggs met Ryou as he sat at the kitchen table and he thanked his darker half, not wasting a second before demolishing the food. He was always absolutely starving in the morning. Bakura collected his own plate and eggs and sat across from Ryou, never looking up or starting any conversation. Ryou was used to this, and it was considered normal for the two to just sit like they were with no words exchanged.

And then Bakura spoke, throwing Ryou for a loop. The taller one was not looking at him, focused only on his eggs, but all the words were directed toward Ryou. "How's school been going?"

Ryou almost choked on his food. This was so unlike Bakura, but instead of getting worried about it and making a big deal of the matter, he decided that this was a good thing, that Bakura was finally getting more sociable and coming out of that thick-hard shell he always locked himself up in. "Oh, it's going fine. You know how it is, homework there, a test every week in some subject, the usual." Casual, this was just casual conversation. Why did it feel so unnerving then?

"Are people treating you okay?"

What was the matter with him? Why the sudden twenty questions? Ryou knew it was stupid of him to get suspicious when Bakura was probably only trying to make idle conversation, but still...he couldn't shake the feeling off. This was just too out of character for the other.

"...Yes...they are treating me fine." Ryou stared at the other, no longer interested in his breakfast.

Bakura's brown eyes finally lifted and stared into Ryou's. "Then why are you wearing gloves, Ryou? It's the end of spring and getting into the summer, so why are you wearing something like that? You can't be that cold."

Ryou felt the harsh suffocating feeling of all of those horrible feelings come crashing down on him like a hurricane. Bakura knew, Bakura was smart, he knew Ryou, he knew he was self-conscious about those growths on his hands. Who wouldn't be? They were not normal, Ryou was not normal.

He dropped his fork, abandoning the food altogether and placed his hands to his face so the other would not see his tears. "I'm sorry!" He had nothing to apologize for, but...it was just too much. He was so sick of being a freak, of those horrible things constantly on his mind. He just wanted to be like everyone else. Was that too much to ask? Why...why did he have to be different? "I can't take it anymore, Bakura! I'm going insane trying to convince myself that people aren't really talking about me behind my back at school, that my dad doesn't second glance at me when I walk past him, that...that you don't stare at them when I walk into a room. I'm sick of them, Bakura! I just want them gone!" Everything came out in a jumbled, unorganized heap, but Ryou didn't care. He wailed and cried into the gloves like a little baby and sobbed and sobbed until he could no longer produce tears. This was why Bakura got up in the mornings. It was not to make sure Ryou got a good breakfast, nor to see him off to school, it was to make sure he could talk to him about those things, that he could bring up something Ryou was trying to block out and make him miserable. Bakura could be so cruel sometimes.

It was even more frustrating when he tried to convince Ryou he was wrong. "Ryou, nobody talks about you behind your back, and you don't need to get rid of those things."

...H-how could he say that? He had no idea, he had no IDEA how torn Ryou had become to it all, how he'd lose sleep over thinking about the way people stared at him at school, the way they whispered to each other when he passed and would giggle just so he could hear them. Bakura did not know, he didn't know what he was talking about. Why wouldn't he let Ryou go to a doctor or something and get them removed? At least then, he could be normal. Why? Why was Bakura so cruel to him?

He hiccupped a little at Bakura's statement, but said nothing in response to it. He dried up his tears, feeling sick to his stomach, and stared at his gloves, at the growths that rested underneath the cloth. "...I want them gone."

"Ryou, you don't have to do that. Nobody cares about them, okay?"

Horrible, horrible Bakura. He had no idea, he had no clue what it was like. Even he, a spirit who used to share Ryou's body, was considered normal, but no. Ryou was marked physically, he had something everyone could see and judge him for. It was like having a scarlet letter like in that book. He felt so alone about it, even Bakura, one who used to share his body and thoughts with, be almost intimate with him to an extent, did not understand the torture and turmoil Ryou went through every waking moment he thought of those growths.

The clock ticked on the wall audibly when silence set in between the two and Bakura heaved a large sigh, his chair scraping against the floor as he stood up. "You're going to be late for school. Get going, I have to go to town and get some things."

Ryou shook his head, not looking at the other. He felt betrayed that Bakura didn't understand him, didn't understand the torture he was going through. "I'm not going."

"Fine, stay here then." Nothing more was said as Bakura grabbed the apartment keys and made his way out the front door, slamming it shut in either annoyance or just the simple notion of wanting to make noise. Bakura was like that.

Ryou stared down at his unfinished eggs and felt nausea rear its head up and coil into his stomach. He bent over, dry sobbing a little into his hands, feeling so pathetic at the moment and more alone than he'd ever felt in his whole life.

The apartment was quiet, too quiet for Ryou's liking, and it only heightened the feeling of being truly alone, which Ryou was. Bakura didn't understand, his dad didn't understand, nobody did. Why was it so hard to accept the fact that Ryou just wanted to be like everyone else? Why did the people he considered friends and family insist on being so cruel to him?

The fridge was in his sights as Ryou moved about, not having any set destination, not even half-realizing he had even stood up to walk somewhere. There was alcohol stuffed into the back. A few beers, some tequila, and other things Ryou couldn't place. Bakura was the drinker, not him, but Ryou needed something to calm him down, and he reached for the first drink in his sights. Plopping onto the couch, Ryou tipped his head back and took a heavy gulp, choking a little on the foreign and strange taste. It tasted horrible to him, but he was desperate for release, wanting to be drunk now, wanting to be calm and wanting to get those growths out of his mind. He drank some more, feeling the effects after about half the bottle was gone, and he really did feel calmer, but it wasn't enough. He finished off the whole bottle, now tipsy, now a little calmer and more happy, and he wanted-no-_needed _more. Walking back to the fridge, another drink was grabbed, and then another, until it all became a haze and Ryou felt numb.

Bakura would probably yell at him later for breaking into his liquor products and such, but Ryou did not care. He'd been betrayed, and he felt a little sense of justice when he drained another bottle.

The world was becoming a blur and Ryou was more and more unaware of where exactly he was. No, that was stupid, he was still in his apartment, the kitchen...he thought. The alcohol did make him feel better, but also numb to the core, and then an idea struck Ryou.

He was numb, he could not feel anything. Happy and excited about his discovery, Ryou laughed to himself as he staggered over to a cupboard and pulled out an object that would finally take all the pain away, that would finally rid him of his problem forever. Why did he not think of this before? Perhaps the fear of pain held him back, but he couldn't feel anything now.

The blender was placed on the counter and Ryou swayed as he tried to focus himself and plug it up right. He kept missing the outlet, but finally found it and popped the top off where the twin blades stared back up at him, a miracle, the answer to his horrible nightmare. He couldn't help but smile, feel some form of accomplishment when he pulled a glove off and was greeted by the familiar sight of those ugly growths. This would fix everything, this would finally rid him of those horrible things forever. Smiling and giggling, Ryou dug his hand into the blender and pressed the button.

The loud whirring noise was deafening, it rattled his teeth and made him dizzy, but there was no pain. He was surprised at how well the liquor had numbed him, but the wonder disappeared when splotches of red and flesh hit him in the face. He couldn't exactly cover up the top, so ground flesh and bright red blood, broken bones and tissue poured out in a mix, but Ryou was smiling. Those growths were gone, chopped off by the blades, and he pulled his hand free of the blender, stared at the nub that was his hand now. No more of those things anymore, no more horrible, horrible and disgusting and unwanted appendages. Though torn and bloody, Ryou knew it would heal overtime and then he'd be normal.

There was no pain, but Ryou was growing dizzy, he could even tell in his drunken state, but no! He still had another hand to perfect. Still excited about this wondrous thing he was doing to himself, Ryou pulled the last glove off with his teeth and stared at the growths one last time.

There were five of them, all different lengths and they stuck out horribly at the end of his hand. He felt sickened by the fact the he had the power to _move _them, but that would change in only mere seconds.

Laughing, smiling, screaming all in one, Ryou dug his last hand in and pressed the button, a whirling mixture of red, flesh, and broken bone scattering out and splashing against the walls, Ryou, the counter, everywhere.

Now, if he could just do something about the growths on his feet...

**End**


End file.
